


Loveyearn

by enigmaticallygodless



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Prolonged Eye Contact, nick's enamored with gatsby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 11:51:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17559875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticallygodless/pseuds/enigmaticallygodless
Summary: “I have one question,” Gatsby speaks out into the waiting quiet.“Then ask.”





	Loveyearn

After the cascade of colors, with its fabric stained in Daisy’s tears, Nick and Gatsby were left to each other’s stilted company, in a disheartened silence.

“Do you think I’ve overwhelmed her, old sport?” Gatsby asks, pacing back and forth with his hand up to his mouth to hide a worried scowl at himself, “haven’t I?”

Nick stands still with his hands crossed in front of him, his eyes seemed to watch Gatsby with a devastated lovelorn gaze, “overwhelm her?” he spoke quietly, “with you-“ It’s his effortless charm: first his smile, then his eyes, leading to that lull of his voice that mollifies Nick. At the same time, it reveals desires for what that voice whispers after nights.

Regaining composure Nick takes a breath, “you overwhelm me, Gatsby.”

Gatsby laughs, more so a chuckle, “no, old sport. See, I can be too much-“

“Too much?” Nick halts his pacing when he interrupts his step, “your place is marvelous! You’re a stellar person among people, what else could you want, Jay?”

Staring at each other from the query that rings clear through the air, it lingers between them. In Nick’s curiosity and in Jay’s shocked silence. With all the guilt in the world, it falls upon Gatsby’s shoulders when he can only think of an answer that comes in the form of _Nick_. Gatsby isn’t a stranger to wanting a person, it’s a solid soul of someone to lean upon that Jay has always desired. Now it calls for a different name, uncovered by ‘Daisy’’s, unhashed and exhumed from paper of his journalling. 

Nick has never let down Gatsby’s gaze. He upheld what Gatsby couldn’t for the sake of both their pining hearts.

What else could you want? Rings between them. Nick didn’t have to ask again.

“Would it… It would be nice to just sit with you,” Gatsby says as he approaches his bed, running his palm against the threads of his duvet, “unless retiring home for the evening would be your-“

“No. This would be nice,” Nick follows up from behind, passing by to take a perch at the end with the slip of his hand against Gatsby’s back.

Gatsby follows hesitantly, as if his own suggestion was too tempting to believe. Nick looks back to him with the shift of an eye, having his profile shrouded in the dawn light of time that climbed down so quickly. Caught in his own breath of simple view of Nick Carraway, the muse says something to clear Gatsby’s ruminate thoughts that concerned desires.

“Are you not going to sit with me, Jay?” Nick teases, “you look preoccupied. There’s no need to worry about Daisy…”

“I’m not preoccupied with Daisy,” he admits, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

The open space besides Nick remained vacant. He watches Gatsby take a careful step closer in front of him instead, treading lightly on a high wire of impulsivity. Nick reaches out for his hand, fingertips brushing against his palm. He’s got Gatsby in a shakeable hold, and it renders him still from the shock of warmth.

“I just have one question,” Gatsby speaks out into the waiting quiet.

“Then ask.”

“Those times I’ve asked for you to join me mindlessly, whether that be for a drive or in the pool — I’m asking you now Nick, what are you asking from me?” 

His eyes seem to shine in a way that only fervid hope could beckon. Nick roused to his feet, his hand mantled around Gatsby’s wrist. He meets wide blue eyes, overwrought with what was commencing. In the ocean’s iridescent, shimmering by the sun rays, Gatsby was enraptured by an entirely raw emotion, surely to blaze up a cataplexy.

This wasn’t Daisy, a predictable past and ransacked of love.

“Are you asking to get what you want?,” Nick murmurs in the risque of their closeness, “are you.. Do you want me to kiss you?” he asks in the livelong moment, eyes set on the lips that part before him.

He watches them breathless and there — The shatter of his composure: “please.”

Nick takes the divinity of kissing him Jay Gatsby in the sunset’s halo.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting, Nick,” Gatsby admits in a whisper, his forehead against Nick’s with his eyes closed.

It pangs him, the thought of Gatsby never having the appanage of what he could have. Nick was willing to give, give and fall with love Jay has been chasing in a lifelong phantasm. With only Nick, he would completely encapsulate Gatsby in more than what he expects from a daisy in Winter’s solstice. A full bloom, they would be, just by a kiss and another. To the dawn’s sun, rising to give desolation, to the valley of ashes pluming smog: they’d be a buoyant daybreak.

He wishes Jay never had to wait at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments & kudos are always appreciated <3


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